Anchor of Secrets by Tessa Hale

39

Pain sweptthrough me for countless reasons, but most of all because of the sheer grief that had made a home in Trace. I could feel it like a living, breathing thing. But I couldn’t deny the fact that it hurt that he had loved someone else. Killed.

“What happened?” My voice was barely audible, just a faint whisper on the wind. I didn’t want the answer, but I needed it. Had to know if I was going to figure out the path to walk with Trace.

A stuttered breath left his lungs. “I was young and dumb.”

I waited for him to continue.

“My parents are demons, too, but they’re fire demons. When I manifested as an incubus, they didn’t want anything to do with me. Incubi aren’t honorable in their estimation.”

“Then they’re idiots,” I snapped.

The corner of Trace’s mouth kicked up, but it wasn’t in actual amusement, just a shadow of the emotion. “I’d been warned that I could have an extreme effect on romantic partners. But when I hit puberty, I just thought it was cool that all the girls wanted me.”

“You’re a walking hormone when you’re going through puberty. I think that’s understandable,” I argued.

Trace shrugged, his gaze pulling back to the water. “I met Sarah when we were freshmen. She was a caster and didn’t seem to care about me being an incubus. She was funny and a daredevil. Suddenly, I didn’t want a dozen different girls. I just wanted her.”

My stomach cramped, but I stayed quiet.

“It was that puppy love kind of thing. I don’t think we would’ve lasted, but in that moment, I just wanted more and more time with her. I got reckless, didn’t realize she was becoming addicted.”

My fingernails dug into my palms. “Addicted?”

Trace nodded. “We never even had sex. I thought that would keep her safe. But she got addicted to my touch. She’d show up at The Nest in the middle of the night, saying she felt like she was crawling out of her skin. She’d beg me to skip class so we wouldn’t have to be apart.” He swallowed hard. “By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.”

“What happened to her?” I asked softly.

“Colt’s dad said we needed distance to break the hold I had on her. He got her parents involved. But no one realized how attached she’d grown.”

My mouth went dry as I waited for more.

“She had a psychotic break. Tried to kill her parents just to get to me. Hurt her dad pretty badly. She lives in an institution now and stares at a wall sixteen hours a day.”

An ache took root in my chest. “I’m so sorry.” I let the silence swirl around us. “But what happened wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want her to get hurt.”

Trace turned to look at me again, a muscle ticking wildly along his jaw. “I was careless. Now, don’t you see?”

“Yes and no,” I said carefully. “I see why you’re terrified, but I also know that we were made to be together. From everything I’ve learned over the past month, I don’t think the Universe would bond us if I couldn’t handle you.”

Trace surged to his feet. “You don’t know that.”

I stood quickly. “I know we have to try.”

He shook his head vehemently. “I’m not risking it.”

Anger pricked at me. “Then what? You’ll risk your own death?”

A muscle along Trace’s jaw ticked. “You guys might be better off without me.”

Everything in me froze, my muscles locking so tight it was physically painful.

“Trace.”

His name was sheer pain on my lips.

Then I moved. I threw myself at him with a force that nearly knocked him over.

Trace had no choice but to catch me.

I gripped him with a ferocity that had a rumbling sound escaping his chest.

“Little Bird,” he whispered.

“Don’t. Don’t you ever say something like that ever again. You are important. You are loved. Even when you’re an asshole. None of us would ever be the same without you.”

“Okay,” he soothed, his hand rubbing up and down my back.

“Promise me. Promise you’ll fight. That we’ll find a way.”

“I promise, Little Bird. I promise.”

My hands fisted in his button-down shirt. I couldn’t let go. Too afraid that he would disappear in front of my eyes.

I swallowed down the sob that wanted to escape, and I forced myself to focus. “You seemed okay before. What changed?”

Trace was quiet for a moment, and then he confessed, “I stopped sleeping with you.”

I pulled back. “That contact, it helped?”

He nodded slowly. “It hurts. To be near you and not take what my demon truly wants, but that skin-to-skin contact is enough to keep me surviving.”

It killed that being in my presence caused him pain, but we had to find a way to keep Trace alive for now. We’d deal with the rest later.

“Why did you stop?” I asked.

Trace teased his lip ring with his teeth. “I was worried my demon would try to claim you. Mark you as his before I could stop him. He’s already imprinting on you. It’s a delicate balance.”

I frowned. “What does imprinting mean?”

“It means that my demon is starting to think of you as his. It becomes harder and harder to resist the urge to claim you once that happens.”

As messed up as things had been between us, I wanted Trace to claim me. Wanted to be wholly his. This beautifully broken boy who would do anything to protect us all. But I wouldn’t force him into something he wasn’t ready for. I took a deep breath, then lifted my hands.

Trace caught my wrists. “What are you doing?”

My eyes flared, but I didn’t look away. “Trust me.”

The two words were a plea.

Trace’s throat worked as he swallowed, but, eventually, he released my hands.

My fingers went to the buttons on his shirt. I unfastened one, then another, and another. I slid my hand under the fabric and placed it over his heart. The steady beat thudded against my palm, reminding me that Trace was still alive, still breathing.

Trace’s eyes went hooded as a buzz took root in my arm. That faint vibration spread throughout my body until I was panting. The urge to wrap myself around him was so strong sweat broke out along my spine.

Trace gritted his teeth and pulled my hand free. “That’s enough.”

The air left my lungs on a whoosh as I struggled to get my breathing back to normal, but my eyes stayed locked with his. “Promise that you’ll come to me if you’re hurting.”

Already, Trace’s coloring was better, the circles not as dark.

He lifted my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the palm. “I promise.”